Casebook Xmas: The Case Of The Wrong Pudding
by TalepieceUK
Summary: From The Casebook Of Madame Vastra. In a break from retelling the many adventures of her beloved parents, Jennifer Strax Vastra-Flint describes a small Christmas investigation of her own.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: The Case Of The Wrong Pudding  
>AUTHOR: Talepiece<br>RATING: 12 cert.  
>PAIRING: VastraJenny  
>SERIES: The Casebook Of Madame Vastra<br>CONTINUITY: Not exactly but sort of.  
>DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, please don't sue me.<br>CREDITS: This story is based on Agatha Christie's, _The Adventure Of The Christmas Pudding_. No infringement is meant, no harm intended and no profit made.  
>NOTE: Here's the second (possibly) annual Casebook Christmas story, though not perhaps as expected.<br>There's no Vastra or Jenny here but stick with me because there are a few mentions and hopefully it's an enjoyable diversion. There's more over at the TP blog on why I wanted to write about Jennifer The Younger and what else I'd like to do with the character. (If you're reading this on FF net, there's a link to the blog in my profile.)  
>There will be the usual break between volumes so the Casebook series will return in March.<br>POSTED: December 2014

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><p>I take a break from describing the many adventures of my beloved parents to speak of a small investigation of my own. I trust and hope that my readers will indulge this (admittedly unnecessary) diversion at such a pivotal moment in the story of Madame Vastra and Jenny Flint.<p>

Jennifer Strax Vastra-Flint.  
>London, 1948.<p>

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><p>I stood somewhat forlornly amid the ruins of what had been my family home. Paternoster Row had been destroyed by the Luftwaffe and was now little more than piles of rubble and broken furniture tumbling into the street. Here and there I could make out the markers of what my younger life had been but there was so little left of my former happiness that I felt my heart slow in its grief.<p>

It was a chilly late-December day with the clouds low and heavy, which did not serve to improve my mood. I had not long returned from Berlin, having offered what little assistance I could - behind the scenes, of course - to those attempting to return some semblance of normality to the city. It would be some time before any such could truly be achieved.

But that was far away, though not so far as the memories that swept over me of my old life. It felt as if centuries had passed since I had last been here, though it was little more than four years. Such had been the intensity of my wartime adventures.

"You should write it all down, Jennifer," Jesmond had said not more than an hour before, "Obviously you can't publish now but you should think about some sort of memoir while it's still fresh in your mind."

Too fresh as far as I was concerned and an utterly inappropriate suggestion from a man of such ultimate discretion. Everything about Jesmond sang of obedience to his duty; from his plainly cut suit to his plainly cut hair and the deliberately blank expression on his plainly cut face. He was everything that a Man From The Ministry should be but without any of the wayward tendencies of so many such men. Rank or position would not lead Jesmond astray for rank and position meant nothing to the man.

Nothing for himself, at least, though he was acutely aware of the effects that rank and position could have upon others. The young man who sat beside him in my little lodgings was testament to that.

He had been silent but for a polite greeting upon entering the room. He had been careful to cover his discomfort, though he had failed under the gaze of one whose life had so recently depended upon watching for the most minute of signs. He had politely sat down when bidden, politely nodded when required and entirely failed to hold back his blushes as Jesmond explained the situation.

The young man was a Prince of some African nation that had been tangentially involved in the war. The father was an old man and the Prince his heir. As heirs were expected to do, he was soon to be wed to an intelligent young woman who had been educated at Cambridge but was careful not to show it when in her native land. She sounded like a boringly upright sort of girl but I suppose that's exactly the sort these young Princes should marry.

The young Prince, however, was not boringly upright. He had flown into England laden with the great jewels of his family's wealth. They were to be reset and then given as wedding gifts to his new bride. As foreign young men of wealth were want to do, this one had taken up with some pretty young thing and set about making the most of his final few days of freedom.

The pretty young thing in question appeared to be quite amiable and trustworthy. Surely that should have been a clue for the young man but alas not and when she asked for an evening wearing the most valuable stone of all... Well, the young fool agreed readily. Newly set by Cartier, the huge ruby had been the pride of his father's collection even in its old-fashioned necklace. Now, held firm in spectacular setting of gold and diamonds, the ruby appeared an even greater marvel.

And within minutes of them arriving at the restaurant of choice, it was gone. The pretty young thing having excused herself to powder her nose, as it were, and never returned.

"As you can imagine," Jesmond said gravely, "this is a matter of the utmost delicacy."

Well yes, obviously it was; a matter with the potential to be both an international incident and the end of this silly boy's future. I felt unkind laughter bubbling within me but clapped it down with all the force that I had used to control any number of emotions over the past few years.

"Will you help me?" the Prince finally spoke.

"I? I have no idea what you think I can do," I looked from the young man - his head now lowered once more - to Jesmond.

Jesmond smiled, "No false modesty, please Jennifer."

"I assure you, it is anything but false. This is a matter for some discrete little Police department, surely?"

"And such a thing exists?" Jesmond smiled his little smile.

I harrumphed, "Well, what would you do if it were a member of our own royal family?"

Jesmond managed a studied moment of shock and muttered something dutiful about such a thing never happening. Something I knew quite well was untrue as my own parents had helped at least three different members of the dynasty in the past.

I admit, I drifted off a little at that point, something I've been want to do since returning to the safety of civilian life. My thoughts turned to my beloved parents and their strange group of friends and colleagues. I felt their loss so deeply that I feared I may be forced to cry out. Of course I controlled myself but, still, the sensations were near overwhelming.

It was then that I had settled upon visiting Paternoster Row, having put it off since arriving in London. I believe it may have been then that I decided to make some record of my parents' more interesting cases; Jesmond's words still tumbling around in my head, no doubt.

Setting all that aside - then as now - I returned my focus to the two men. One of whom was watching me intently, while the Prince studied his expensive shoes in palpable embarrassment. How awful for such a man to be forced to come to a mere woman and beg for her assistance. What a great strain it must be putting on his soul. I confess that I enjoyed that thought rather too much.

"We both know that you're more than capable of dealing with any such matter," Jesmond flattered me, "and being discrete about it too."

"And what exactly do you want me to do for you?"

Jesmond offered up a brief summation of what his department had been able to uncover. The pretty young thing had been found to be an associate of some uncouth creature who had a tendency to prey on the richer, more stupid sort of girl. He would flatter and fawn for a while, take as much of her family's wealth as was on offer and then disappear.

"And you know where this young man is?"

"We do, yes."

"And you wish me to intercept him before he can sell the ruby?"

"Quite so."

"And then?"

Here Jesmond paused and the Prince twitched nervously. They did not need to say anything, so eloquent were their expressions. It amounted to: find the girl, find the man, find the ruby and, for the love of God, keep it quiet.

"And when would you have be begin this little adventure?"

"Today," said Jesmond and again I almost laughed aloud.

I suggested that the man was making sport of me but I knew well enough that it required at least three stiff drinks before Jesmond came even close to a sense of humour. He was a good man - a good friend and an occasional lover in the past - but he was not endowed with a jovial nature by any stretch of the imagination. Thinking of it now, imagination was something else that he rather lacked but I suppose that was a requirement of the position.

"We have traced Mr Lee-Wortley to a family home out in the country."

"He's spending Christmas in this country?" I said in amazement.

"He assumes himself unknown in this matter," Jesmond gave that little smile once more, "and seems to be concluding some unhappy business with another young lady."

I muttered something rather cruel but Jesmond was too much of a gentleman to notice. The Prince was not but his reaction didn't much interest me at that point; I was all for letting the foolish boy hang for his mistakes. I admit, my wartime adventures may have left some residual emotional effects.

Nevertheless, Jesmond was entirely serious in his request. He wanted me to leave the relative warmth of my London lodgings and spend Christmas in the company of strangers, huddled in some no doubt freezing cold and painfully draughty old castle. The thought was not appealing and I said as much.

"I assure you, Jennifer, that King's Lacey is quite a modern sort of house, the second Mrs Lacey having been something of a new broom, as it were."

Ah, so that was his trump card. Jesmond always had a trump card, he was that sort of civil servant. I studied his face carefully but it was a blank as a fresh piece of parchment.

King's Lacey: a name from my parents' past. The location of one of their more interesting cases and surely that was not unknown to Jesmond. How much, after all, was unknown to such a well-connected sort of man?

Not that I gave him the satisfaction of seeing these thoughts as they ran through my head. I was at least as practised as him at keeping my own council. More perhaps, since my life had so often depended upon it.

Eventually, I offered a little smile of my own and said, "The second Mrs Lacey?"

"The now Mrs Emma Lacey took to the Colonel rather more than to the place and set about modernising to her heart's content."

Good for her, I thought. Decent heating and running water were two things I had often lacked over the past few years but I saw no reason why a woman in her own home should do without.

"And you have found some way to insinuate me into their family festivities, of course."

"Of course. Mrs Lacey is very much looking forward to having you stay with the family. I told her to expect you about teatime."

Cheeky bastard, I thought and I fear a twitch of that did make it to my face. I gave up any pretence of disinterest at that point and glanced around my comfortable, warm lodgings. Comfortable, warm and lonely, alas.

My old friend did not need me to state my newly-made Christmas plans.

At least he had not lied about the amenities, I thought but a few hours later. Though King's Lacey was a bit of a higgledy-piggledy sort of pile on the outside, the interior was quite a modern home. It had the feel of one of those newly-refurbished hotels that are taking over some of the old houses of England. Without the coldness that they generally have, though, for it remained very much a family home.

Mrs Lacey was a pleasant, open-faced woman in her seventies. Her face showed the lines of age and of lost loved ones but, then, whose face did not? She greeted me with open arms - metaphorically, if not literally - and I was barely out of my car when my bags were being whisked upstairs and myself into the little drawing room that Mrs Lacey favoured.

It was blessedly warm, despite the falling snow that had loomed ahead for most of my journey down, and there was nary a draft to trouble me. Perhaps this Christmas wouldn't be so bad after all? I was even more certain of that when a butler of such advanced years that I feared he may depart this realm at any moment entered the room. My growing concerns were obviously shared by Mrs Lacey, who watched the man with an expression of such worry that I felt quite panicked.

Once Mr Peverell had completed his slow advance from the door and deposited his tray on the little table beside Mrs Lacey there was a palpable sense of relief from all three of us. And then there was my own pure joy at seeing an old-fashioned fruit cake amongst the treats that Peverell had carried with him.

Mrs Lacey thanked the man profusely and insisted that he have a sit down and his own tea in the kitchen. When he was gone, Mrs Lacey began proceedings by pouring from the silver teapot while explaining their reduced circumstances.

"We really don't have the staff these days, of course. Well, who does? But Mrs Rose the cook and Mr Peverell there insist on returning to their posts each Christmas. Christmas being such a tradition in this house."

"You really are very kind to allow me to turn up at the last minute," I said, still eyeing the fruit cake greedily.

Mrs Lacey - the kindly soul that she so obviously was - made no mention of this and simply handed me my cup, quickly followed by a healthy slice of the dark, heavily-laden loaf.

"Not at all," she said with a genuine smile, "we're very happy to have you and dear Edwina was so sure that it was exactly what you needed. You've been out on the Continent for some time? Oh, don't worry," Mrs Lacey laughed, "I don't expect you to tell me anything really but an old lady can have a go, eh?"

I smiled back, though around a mouthful of fruit cake, and merely said, "It's been so long since I had a traditional family Christmas."

"Then we are delighted to offer you one now. I fear that the women who risked so much will be less well favoured with medals than the men."

You could make a safe wager on that, I thought but only nodded and said, "And your family won't mind my presence?"

Mrs Lacey sipped her own tea before saying, "Well, the Colonel can be a little standoffish but please don't think him rude, it's simply his way. As to the children, I should think they'll be very happy to have someone else who's closer to their age.

I dare say they'll pile in quite soon; the offer of tea and cake is always strong in the young, eh?"

I had the good graces to blush but could only nod and keep chewing as Mrs Lacey continued.

"There's Colin, our grandson, and his school friend Michael. I'm afraid they both lost their parents in the war. What a horrible thing the Blitz was, taking away Mothers as well as Fathers from these boys."

There was a long pause and I could do little more than mutter my agreement and let the kind lady have her moment of grief. She visibly fought down her emotions and settled herself with a long sip of tea and a nibble on a crumpet only lightly dabbed with butter.

"Where was I? Ah, yes, Colin and Michael, then my grand-niece Sarah and her, well," she hesitated, "gentleman friend Mr Desmond Lee-Wortley and his sister."

"Sister?" I said, genuinely surprised.

"Yes, another last minute addition. The poor thing has been in hospital recently and Mr Lee-Wortley was afraid to leave her alone in London. Well, we could hardly tell him to so Sarah extended the invitation to her also. Not that you'll see much of her because she was taken ill only hours after arriving and is now cloistered in her room. In his favour, Mr Lee-Wortley does take up a tray to her at each meal."

"You don't sound quite so keen on the young man?"

"Ah," Mrs Lacey drew out the sound and then said only, "yes."

This was a tricky moment and I needed to handle it carefully. So I thrust a quantity of fruit cake into my mouth, nodded with a confused expression and allowed Mrs Lacey's natural goodness to keep the conversation going. Not that she would have required a great deal of persuasion, I suspect, as she seemed ready to discuss the matter with someone who would see it from a fresh perspective.

"He certainly isn't the sort one would choose for a girl like Sarah. The Colonel is livid but what else would you expect. No," another sip of tea, "no. Still, she does seem to love him, though I can't help but remember my first love, all those years ago. I can barely even remember his name but I can remember being absolutely enthralled. Until I wasn't," Mrs Lacey laughed almost girlishly and added, "I met him again some years later and he was quite the most vacuous fool you have ever come across."

I doubt it, I thought and remembered some of the men I had met during the war. I said only, "Perhaps Sarah's relationship will play itself out in the same way?"

"In truth, I hope so. That's my plan, you see: be utterly nice to him and wait for the scales to fall from her eyes. So much better than ranting against him and driving her ever more firmly away."

"A clever plan, Mrs Lacey."

She laughed again, "I don't know about that - and the Colonel is most certainly not happy about it - but I rather think it the best way. Let them have this family Christmas together and she might just see him for what he is."

There was a pause and I said, "And the rest of the party?" before taking the final mouthful of my second slice of cake.

"There's David Welwyn, a nice young man and the son of an old family friend. And then there's Sarah's cousin, Diana. You might know her, come to think of it, she spent most of the war typing away somewhere in Whitehall."

I choked audibly and was forced to hack and cough like an old man. Mrs Lacey was most alarmed and patted my back with some force. When the coughing fit had subsided - along with the last of the cake - she refilled my cup and offered it up to me as a balm.

I sipped at the still-hot liquid and tried to calm the thoughts that rushed through my mind. Could it be Diana? My Diana? Not that she had ever truly been mine but it had been a short, intense sort of love affair and they often burned the brightest in one's memory.

It had been on my last visit to London, before that long, dangerous trek across occupied Europe had begun. I had returned to the briefest of briefings - somewhat farcical in its clandestine nature - and what little equipment was on offer. Bless the SOE, they had done their best but there was so little that it had hardly been worth the bother.

"Are you quite well?" Mrs Lacey interrupted my spiralling thoughts.

I smiled at her and nodded as I gulped down another mouthful of tea. It gave me time to settle myself further and I was almost my old self when I spoke.

"Quite well," I forced a blush to my cheeks, a handy trick once learned, "I'm afraid I've been something of a greedy guts."

Mrs Lacey relaxed and laughed once more, "Mrs Rose will be most gratified to hear it. And if you think that was good, just wait for Christmas dinner."

She could offer no more details as the door opened and the imposing form of Colonel Lacey entered the room. He looked more a rugged farmer than the country gent and, in truth, he was exactly that. His face was red and weather-beaten, his bushy eyebrows redder still.

"Tea, yes?" was all he said.

He took the proffered cup from his wife, bestowed a surprisingly gentle smile upon her as she prepared a plate of scones for him and then settled into the far seat and tucked in. Mrs Lacey gave a little shake of her head in his direction but he remained resolutely silent.

Not that it much mattered, since the door again opened and a stream of people entered. Mrs Lacey introduced them as best she could in the ensuing chaos of tea and cakes.

Colin and Michael were typical schoolboys, one dark and one fair, who bounded in and attacked the food with gusto. Sarah and Mr Lee-Wortley were close behind them and the latter received a low growl of displeasure from the Colonel. Sarah was as charming in her greetings as Mrs Lacey but her beau was far more guarded. Then came an upright young man who introduced himself as David Welwyn.

Finally came Diana. My Diana. I stood on unsteady legs and tried to feign surprise, though it was obvious that neither of us was truly so. She greeted me politely but without the warmth that I had hoped for and we found ourselves standing in the midst of seated figures, all of whom were trying not to show their obvious interest in this little reunion.

All except the Colonel, who said, "Know each other, do you?"

"We met a few years back in London," Diana said.

She then turned away, accepted the tea cup and plate that Mrs Lacey held out and settled on the stool beside the Colonel. I sat down, aware that I had made something of a show of myself and regretting it deeply. Though not as deeply as the hurried departure from London that had caused me to miss our final assignation.

"How lovely that you know one of us," Mrs Lacey said and only a hint of her doubt came through the words. She looked from Diana to me and back again then added, "Though I expect neither of you will be able to tell us much about your wartime adventures."

"Oh please do," Colin said and he and Michael carried the conversation into their wild imaginings of wartime heroics and daring-do.

It was all schoolboy nonsense but it was good fun and the party relaxed into each other's company. Silly jokes quickly followed and the tea ended with Mrs Lacey declaring herself pleased with the Christmas so far and hoping for the best on the big day.

As rapidly as everyone had arrived, they all dispersed. The boys persuaded Diana and David to go off for a walk to see if the lake had frozen over yet. Sarah obviously wanted to go along too but Lee-Wortley announced that they were going to the pub and Sarah was forced to agree simply to save face in front of her great-uncle.

The Colonel strode off to deal with some matter on the farm and Mrs Lacey suggested that I remain in the warm and have a nice nap.

"You're looking a little pale, if you don't mind me saying so."

"I suppose I am. A nap sounds lovely, thank you."

So she left and I remained, watching through the window as the four intrepid adventurers trudged through the snow beyond. Looked pale? I certainly felt it after the shock of seeing Diana again. For a moment I wondered if Jesmond had known about her presence here and about our previous relationship. Unlikely but you should put nothing past the man.

I closed my eyes for just a moment. Or possibly two.

The evening was something of a whirl, with the tree going up and all the associated duties carried out by various members of the family. I stayed back unless invited to take part and watched them all laughing and joking. Perhaps not all, since Lee-Wortley thought himself above such trivialities and the Colonel was clearly indulging his wife and nothing more. Sarah obviously adored the whole business and again the gap widened between herself and her young man. Mrs Lacey's plan was working quite nicely.

Diana was ever a presence in my thoughts and often in my peripheral vision but stayed away from me unless absolutely required to be polite. I really couldn't blame her for I had treated her very shabbily all told and I regretted it deeply. But I could offer no real excuse or explanation. I doubt she would have wanted either.

So we all rubbed along until the hall was festooned, the dining room a forest and the evening meal consumed with gusto. How we would manage a full Christmas meal the very next day was beyond me but, I confess, I did take the offered slice of fruit cake for supper.

It was as I sat in quiet contemplation after that meal that Diana found me. I had taken up the same seat in Mrs Lacey's little drawing room, leaving the party to go about their pre-Christmas business and the boys to go to bed. Diana slipped in, stared down at me for a long moment and then took the seat that Mrs Lacey had previously occupied.

"I know that you can't tell me anything," she said, not looking at me as she spoke, "but at least tell me you wanted to meet that evening."

"More than anything."

"And you didn't return to London until recently?"

"Eight days ago."

She lapsed into silence but I felt that I may have passed a test of sorts. I allowed my mind to play through some of our more intimate moments, caused no doubt by her favourite perfume and the comfortable familiarity of her presence.

"And what are you doing here?"

I sat up, somewhat surprised by the accusing tone. Staring deep into her green eyes I knew that it was useless denying that I had a greater purpose but neither could I tell her any more than I could regarding my wartime activities. Well, perhaps a little more.

I said, "I've been asked to investigate a certain gentleman."

"Sarah's chap? Yes, I rather thought so. He's obviously the wrong sort, though I can't imagine that he's a Nazi or anything."

"Just your usual sort of wrong, I'd say."

"Well," and here Diana smiled, making my heart lurch and other parts react in similar vein, "at least you don't have to worry about being murdered on Christmas Eve."


	2. Chapter 2

See Part One for story details.

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><p>I took breakfast in my room on the recommendation of Mrs Lacey, who informed me that presents would be opened at a light brunch and then the day would commence. Still somewhat bemused by Diana's news, my good humour drained away when I found a note tucked beneath the platter of toast.<p>

'Don't eat none of the plum pudding, signed from one who wishes you well.'

It was written in an unpractised hand and on thin, dry paper but was quite legible. I turned it over a few times and re-read it with growing trepidation. Just what sort of wrong was Mr Desmond Lee-Wortley? Could he be more than Jesmond reported; not simply a cad but potentially a murderer? The ruby was worth a fortune and a less princely sum had been the cause of many a death before now.

Yet I felt sure that he was not such a man. I had met men - and women - capable of thoughtless, needless murder many times over. Lee-Wortley did not strike me as one of them. A cad, a rogue and many other things besides, yes, but not a murderer.

So perhaps my uneducated Guardian Angel had mistaken the plot that Diana had exposed for a real attempt? But on me? And death by plum pudding? I laughed aloud, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. I was visiting an old English manor house with an old English family at Christmas time! I suspected I might be able to survive the festivities. Assuming that I did not suffer an overdose of fruit cake.

With my mind settled upon that, if not upon a method of extracting the ruby from Lee-Wortley's grasp, I bathed and dressed before joining the family downstairs. Though I admit that I kept the little note with me.

It was quickly forgotten in the buzz of Christmas Day. Mrs Lacey beamed as the boys opened their presents with the gusto usually reserved for consuming their food. The Colonel was abashed to find a new flat cap amongst his gifts and declared himself most pleased with it. Lee-Wortley stood back and all but sniggered at proceedings, leaving Sarah caught half-in, half-out of her family's embrace.

Diana and David sat more quietly and watched with indulgent smiles. I joined them - after only a moment's hesitation - and was quickly plied with a glass of sherry.

It was two o'clock precisely when we sat to dinner with the room filled with the sound of laughter, happiness and the fire crackling away. Peverell again troubled Mrs Lacey's conscience but again acquitted himself well. Mrs Rose did the same and provided a feast that was truly fit for royalty. It had begun with oyster soup and moved on to two enormous turkeys - one boiled, one roasted - that were quickly demolished, along with all the trimmings.

When the carcasses were carried away by Mr Peverell and a nervous little kitchen maid, there was barely time to finish the wine before Mr Peverell returned with a remarkably large Christmas Pudding. It was at least the size of a football and flamed wildly, the holly set atop barely escaping the fire. Peverell, knees shaking but heart stout, set the Christmas pudding before Mrs Lacey, who cut and spooned it into dishes that were passed around by the diners to save Peverell another circuit of the table.

Then the hard sauce was passed from hand to hand and the Colonel joked about Mrs Lacey stealing the best brandy yet again. The old man still glowed red but this time with pleasure and a hearty meal.

Peverell departed and the family tucked in to the hot, rich pudding. I hesitated, I confess, studying the dark mass with a moment's trepidation before setting all concerns aside and digging in. It really was delicious and the family clearly agreed.

A bright little spot amongst the darkness caught my attention and I excavated the pudding until a small disc tumbled on to the dish. Colin spotted the movement and laughed.

"Looks like you've got something there."

I fished the item from the dish, washed it in the little glass of water set before me and held it up between thumb and forefinger.

"The bachelor's button," Michael guffawed and everyone - myself included - joined in. Everyone but Lee-Wortley, of course. Michael looked around the table and added, "Anyone else got anything?"

At that very moment, Colonel Lacey began to choke in quite as spectacular a fashion as I had the day before. David leapt up from his seat and patted the old man's back until he had calmed a little, helped by a gulp of Sicilian dessert wine. Mrs Lacey asked after him with obvious concern and the Colonel carefully bathed something in his own glass before holding it up.

Cries of surprise and consternation followed as we all stared at the glowing red ruby in the Colonel's hand. It caught the light from the candles that festooned the room and the dancing firelight too, casting little red sparkles around the table.

Lee-Wortley was as surprised as any and rather looked as if he might faint at any moment. Happily, his shock slowed his hand and I had time to encourage Colin to pass the gem around the table towards me. Each subsequent person took a moment to study the remarkable piece and at each hand, Lee-Wortley paled further.

"Some bit of nonsense from a Christmas cracker," Colonel Lacey spluttered, "How on Earth did that get there, Em?"

Mrs Lacey professed utter confusion, as did everyone else, and then the moment was broken when Colin discovered the little pig lurking in his own portion and Diana quickly followed with the thimble. Finally, and at just the moment that the ruby reached me, Sarah unearthed the ring and Colonel and Mrs Lacey had something else to be concerned about.

It gave me the necessary distraction to pocket the ruby, where my fingers brushed against the warning note and some understanding followed.

The Lacey's ire was compounded further when Lee-Wortley found the gold ten shilling piece, leaving the Colonel most annoyed. Another bottle of wine and the requisite mince pies and Christmas dessert helped to soothe his anxiety and to take the memory of his strange discovery further from everyone's minds. Everyone but myself and Mr Lee-Wortley and I kept a very careful eye on the young man for the remainder of the meal.

After which, I accompanied Mrs Lacey down to the kitchens to congratulate the inestimable Mrs Rose on her glorious success. King's Lacey really was short of staff, there being only Mrs Rose herself, two middle-aged women assisting her and the little, tow-headed maid who had helped Mr Peverell. She was a nervous creature and glanced our way often, though said nothing.

Mrs Rose basked in our effusive praise and appeared delighted by my interest in her fruit cake and, of course, the Christmas pudding. Her face darkened a little when I asked about it and she shook her head sadly.

"Of course, it should have been made weeks back, Miss, but I don't have the time these days. And then there was this morning's accident."

"Accident?" Mrs Lacey said, all concern.

Mrs Rose blushed, "I thought you might have noticed that it was the wrong pudding, Madame."

"Wrong one?" I said.

"Mrs Rose always makes two large puddings," Mrs Lacey explained, "One for Christmas Day and one for New Year."

"And then there's the little ones for later in the year too," Mrs Rose added.

"I did notice that you hadn't used the decorated mould for today's pudding," Mrs Lacey said.

Mrs Rose shook her head again, "Had an accident this very morning. Annie over there managed to drop the pudding in the Christmas mould and, well, pudding and pot all over the place. Poor old Mabel there," and Mrs Rose indicated one of her helpers, "had quite a job to get it all up and the whole thing was ruined. I am sorry, Mrs Lacey."

The mistress of the house beamed good-naturedly at her cook, "Think nothing of it and you too Annie; these things are want to happen in a busy kitchen. Especially one that isn't used so much any more."

"And you never would have known the difference," I added without needing to feign my enthusiasm.

"Most kind, Miss, most kind," and Mrs Rose was back to beaming in pride. She smiled at me, "It's a shame you didn't arrive the day before, Miss, you could have stirred the pudding with us all."

I obviously appeared as baffled as I felt and Mrs Lacey smiled again, "There's an old tradition where everyone in the house gets to stir the pudding mixture and make a wish."

"Even the sister of Miss Sarah's guest," Mrs Rose said, "Though it took it out of her, I'm afraid. He took up her dinner just now," she added as an aside to Mrs Lacey.

The two women talked for some time more and I stood by, listening with half an ear and thinking through the events of the past few days. Wondering too what Lee-Wortley might do to take back the precious stone. I would need to keep a close watch on the man, for he would surely make his move sooner rather than later.

As he did, that very night. I had retired after a pleasant Christmas evening of chatter, laughter and more than a few snores. Very little of the Christmas tea had been eaten, though I confess to taking another slice of fruit cake. Possibly two.

Though I returned to my room and prepared for bed, I did not sleep but rather settled down into the warm sheets and waited. He had thought himself quite a clever sort, no doubt, but it takes rather more than a spiked cup of tea to fell a woman who has survived the Nazi threat so often. A nice touch too, to have Sarah offer the cup into my hand. Had I not been watching the man so intently, I may have missed the flick of the wrist that delivered the sleeping draft.

Sarah, all innocence as she was, had done her unknowing duty with a smile and a few kind words. Her momentary delay in turning away from me had blocked Lee-Wortley's view as I carefully put my cup beside David Welwyn's own. Poor David had been looking quite pale and drawn, more so every time Lee-Wortley troubled Sarah's happy countenance. He could do with a good night's sleep and I felt certain that Lee-Wortley would restrict himself to such. I had come to the conclusion that he was not a murderer at all; he didn't have the bottle, as my dear old Mam would have said.

At least, I hoped he didn't, particularly as the sounds of approaching footsteps came from the hall outside. There was the settling of floorboards as someone waited at my door, then the turn of the handle and the slow opening. I shuffled lower in the bed and pulled the sheets up to my nose, feigning sleep as I had done more than once over the past few years.

The intruder tread carefully as he made his slow way around the room. He - for it was surely a he - moved to the chest of drawers and made a thoroughly professional examination of the contents. When everything was set back as it had been, he turned his attention to the dressing table and whence to the vanity case that sat nearby. Only then did he approach the bed, looking through the few bits and pieces that sat on the bedside tables. My eyes were closed at this point but he was close enough for me to be aware of all of his movements.

He left the bedside and returned to the dressing table, a definite air of anger about his person, before turning for the door. There he paused for a moment, looking back upon the room and finally making his exit. The door clicked as he pulled it to and then I was alone once more.

I sat up in bed and raised the lamp, taking a good look around. He had left the room just as when he arrived. A thoroughly professional job indeed.

I sat there for some time, thinking through my plan of action and hoping that Diana's forgiveness was as quick as her sense of humour. With only one way to be sure of it, I hurried out of bed, donned my thick robe and fur-lined slippers and left the room.

Upon returning a little later I was able to sleep before there came a hesitant tap at the door. It was followed by a rather braver knock and I called out that I would be just a moment. Padding to the door, I opened it to find young Colin standing there, already scrubbed and dressed for the day. He appeared nervous but there was a twinkle in his gaze too. Still, he muttered a little until he got into his stride.

"I say, I am sorry to interrupt you," he took rather too much interest in my pyjama-clad body for a moment and then hurried on, "but something simply awful has happened."

"Awful?" I said, "Whatever can you mean, Colin?"

He managed to suppress his mirth and played his part quite admirably, informing me that something had happened to Diana and that I must come immediately. So I threw on the heavy robe once more, slipped my feet into my stout shoes and hurried after the lad. He lead me down the staircase and through the hallway. Poor Peverell required all of his years of experience not to react to the sight of Colin leading a bathrobe-clad woman through King's Lacey early on Boxing Day morning.

We left him, marched out of the front door and around the house to the woodland side with the lake beyond. There, Michael joined us and shared a conspiratorial glance with Colin before telling me with equal excitement that Diana was lying out in the snow, quite still and perhaps even dead. There were tracks too, leading to and from the body. Two towards but only one away.

"That's a clue, surely?" Michael said with grave severity only slightly belied by his sparkling eyes.

"I should say so," I replied while I looked out at poor Diana.

The snow was deep now, though no more fell at that moment. Diana lay there in her bright red pyjamas with the crisp white of a wool wrap around her shoulders. One arm was flung out to her side, the other tucked beneath her body and her dark hair fanned about her dramatically. She was a gash of colour against the glaring snow and certainly an arresting sight. Even from some yards away, I could see the liberal quantities of red pigment - blood, of course - that had been splashed around her. Most of it was on the snow, showing bright in the morning sun, though a little had been artfully dabbed on the white of the wrap.

"The Colonel said you were the daughter of the Great Detective herself," Colin explained, "So we thought we should wake you first."

"You haven't told the Colonel or Mrs Lacey?"

"Not yet. No one else knows but us."

"Perhaps that's for the best," I said, though I hoped a certain other person might take the bait.

I made to move forward and Colin grabbed at my arm, "Should you go any closer?"

"Surely you don't want to disturb the body?" Michael said.

I congratulated them on their forethought but pointed out that Diana might not be dead and would require medical assistance if she were only injured. The boys' faces fell at this and I gently extricated myself from Colin's grasp to cross the terrace and make my way to Diana's body.

I walked carefully around the tracks, which gave me the opportunity to watch the two scamps whispering behind their hands, before settling down in the snow beside the victim. As far as the boys could see, I reached over and checked her pulse and then rose up, studying the tracks carefully.

I returned to the boys and felt some relief when I spotted Sarah and Lee-Wortley hurrying out of the library doors towards us. As we all converged I shook my head sadly, casting my expression into its most grave set. I muttered something about it being a tragedy and a terrible loss to the family. By the time I had finished, Colin and Michael were ashen and staring around my shoulder with wide eyes.

"It's murder, of course," I said.

"No, no, that's not right," Colin said.

Michael joined him in his panic, "It was a joke, just a silly game. the Colonel said you were the daughter of Madame Vastra so we thought we'd play a prank on you; set up a murder for you to investigate."

"Diana!" Colin called out, "Diana, get up. Get up this minute!"

He made to run towards her but this time I grabbed at his arm. He struggled a little but Sarah wrapped herself around him to hold him firm. I felt sorry for the two of them but I needed this little plan to work.

"I suspect I know the motive too," I said in what I hoped was a passable imitation of my Mother's tone.

"What?" Lee-Wortley said. He looked as panicked as Colin, though for a very different reason, of course.

"The ruby, from the Christmas pudding," I indicated Diana with a flick of my hand, "Diana is holding it."

"The ruby from a cracker?" Sarah stared at me.

"I have a feeling that it's not from a cracker."

"We should be sure," Lee-Wortley said and started to walk past me.

I let him go, watching with the others as he walked to the body, bent down to check the pulse of Diana's exposed wrist, removed something from her cold hand and then rose. He walked back, his hand clasped firm around the precious stone.

He didn't relinquish his grip as he said, "She's quite dead. I'll go in and call the Police immediately."

"You do that," I said and he hurried towards the house, Sarah tagging along behind him.

The three of us watched them go and I prattled on about what the Police would do and how we should inform poor Mrs Lacey. It gave Lee-Wortley time to make his escape; there was the loud roar of a sports car engine and a flash of green as he drove for the gates. Colin and Michael expressed their surprise and I used it as an excuse to get them back inside.

We entered via the library doors and found Sarah pale with fright.

"Desmond said the telephone line has been cut and that he would go to the Police Station directly."

"Excellent," I said and herded the three of them out of the library and into a room on the opposite side of the house, only stopping to ask Peverell to bring hot, sweet tea for everyone. When we were settled, I said, "Now I need to tell you something and forgive me Sarah but it may upset you."

"More than one of my best friends being murdered?"

I tried to show her a reassuring smile but I doubt that I succeeded.

"I can't give details, as I'm sure you'll understand when I'm done, but I think you all deserve some sort of explanation.

"I was engaged by a young Prince who had bought upon himself some ill luck. That ill luck took the form of the theft of a great ruby, a family heirloom and a gift to his future wife. Unfortunately, he gave a girl of rather less breeding access to this prodigious gem and she and the ruby disappeared.

"The girl in question was found to be the accomplice of a man of equally dubious morals, one who preyed upon young ladies of good family."

I paused here and waited for Sarah's face to spark in understanding and then fall in horror. Colin reached out and took her hand, muttering something about being brave.

"This young lady was known to be spending Christmas with her family and so was her beau. So too was I - thanks to a little arranging on the part of a friend - and so, it transpired, was a certain mysterious sister. A sister who was taken ill almost as soon as she arrived. I suspect that it was as soon as she and the man in question discovered the imminent arrival of a woman known to be related to a Great Detective or two."

"Yes, it was," Colin said, "Aunty Em mentioned you as we were going down to stir the puddings."

"Suddenly the sister is taken ill and the ruby is discovered: in the Christmas pudding."

"But why put it in the pudding that we were going to eat days later?" Michael said.

"Because it was the wrong pudding," I explained, "Poor Annie had a terrible accident in the kitchen; she dropped the Christmas Day mould so the spare had to be used."

"The one that we wouldn't have had until after you'd left?" Colin said.

"Or that would have mysteriously disappeared along with the man and his sister," I shrugged.

"So it was the real ruby then? Not something from a cracker?" Michael said.

I nodded, "One of the great jewels of the world, apparently."

"But you let him take it!" Colin said, glancing at Sarah's tear-heavy eyes as he said it.

"Or not," I said and smiled.

"You swapped them!" Michael laughed. His face fell, "Oh, but what about poor Diana? How did she get the ruby? And why would he kill her?"

"I gave it to her," I paused and then added, "when I asked her to fake her own murder. I can't think where that idea came from."

The boys stared at me before they burst into laughter. Sarah sniffled loudly and they stopped immediately, casting guilty looks at her before turning back to me. They didn't have a chance to say more as Diana came to the door, swathed in blankets and clutching a mug with her left hand. The right hung somewhat limply by her side.

"From me, actually," she said and added with an accusing glare, "I hope it was worth it."

"It was," I rose from my seat by the fire and guided Diana into it, "And thank you, you played your part admirably."

Colin stared at Diana, "But your pulse? Even Desmond said you didn't have a pulse."

"A tourniquet," I indicated my upper right arm, "to cut off the blood." Diana worked her right hand into a fist with some difficulty and I added, "It should wear off soon enough, believe me."

"One of your wartime tricks?" Michael said, all excitement again.

"What I don't understand," Sarah said in a rush, "is why Desmond ran. You might say he was involved in this theft but why make it look like he's involved in a murder?"

"Because he can't afford to be involved in anything," Diana answered before I could, "because he's a coward and he ran the first chance he had."

"Don't be beastly, Diana," Colin said and hugged Sarah in sympathy.

"I'm afraid it's the truth. Lee-Wortley couldn't afford to be caught up in a scandal and any opportunity to abscond with the ruby was too good to miss."

Michael studied me for a moment, "But you let him get away. Even if he hasn't got the real ruby, he's still gone."

I smiled what might have been quite a nasty sort of smile and said, "Not very far and not for long; the Police are waiting for him at the airfield. He has a plane, doesn't he Sarah?"

Sarah stared in horror but eventually gave a slow nod. She said nothing but Diana caught the thread immediately.

"You were planning to elope, weren't you?" Sarah snuffled again and Diana went on, "You'd have broken Aunty Em's heart, you know."

"It would have been the cover, you see? A man flying out of the country with a precious ruby is a thief but a young couple doing the same is a wild romance. Though," I paused and then finished, "who his young lady would have been is open to debate."

"It would have been me and you can believe that!" a brassy voice came from the doorway. We all turned to see a young woman with platinum blonde hair and a furious expression dragging on a fur coat as she continued, "So he's run for it and left me to take the blame. That cad! That," I coughed before she could say something that would add rather too much to the boys' vocabulary and she harrumphed, "I'm out of here. And don't send the Police after me, oh Great Detective!"

With that she was gone, muttering something to poor Peverell and slamming the door behind her. Colin looked panicked again and I reassured him that it was best to let her leave. The Police would prefer a nice, simple case and the FCO would prefer a discrete one. Better that Scotland Yard had Lee-Wortley on all the other charges that he was open to and knew less about this particular business.

We sat in silence for long moments after that, the young ones staring at the door or out of the window at the snow-covered landscape. My attention was fixed on Diana. Her colour was returning and with it her generally good humour. She smiled at me and rolled her eyes. Suddenly, I felt quite warm too.

"We really should get dressed," I said and Diana nodded. Colin and Michael sniggered and I cast them a firm glance, "You two might want to go and inform Mrs Lacey about all this. Colin, you go and Michael, you find David and ask him to sit with Sarah."

Diana said a few comforting words to her cousin, softening her previously harsh comments. When Sarah was a little more settled, we left the room and made for the staircase. I was just working up the courage to ask Diana to spend New Years with me when we stumbled upon the little maid, a startled expression on her scrubbed face.

"Oh, Miss Diana, what a relief."

"Relief, Annie?"

Annie was struck mute, her eyes widening as she stared at me.

"Annie?" I said and the final piece of the Christmas puzzle fell into place, "Annie, was it you who sent me that note?" The maid's head gave the faintest nod, "You thought someone planned to harm me? The Lee-Wortley's, perhaps?" Another nod, "So you wrote a warning note? And you dropped the pudding too?"

"Note?" Diana said and I reached into my pocket and pulled out the crumpled bit of paper. Diana read it and looked at Annie, "What made you think someone would hurt Jennifer?"

"I heard them. The sister and Mr Desmond. Saying that the Miss was a great investigator and that she might need to be dealt with. Said something about the pudding and I thought," she blushed crimson as she rushed on, "well, I thought they meant to poison you, Miss. And then I fumbled the pudding; didn't really mean to, it was just that I was thinking and I was worried and... And then this morning," and here Annie's eyes locked on Diana's blanket-clad form.

"You go to the cinema a great deal, don't you Annie?" I said. She nodded and I asked, "To see the detective stories?" Another nod and I smiled, "You did a good thing, a brave thing too and I thank you for it. Tell me, Annie, what do you most wish that you had received for Christmas?"

Annie blinked up at me but eventually she said, "A vanity case, Miss, just like yours" in a quiet tone.

"Then as soon as I return to London, I shall find the perfect vanity case for you and send it via King's Lacey as my thanks for your protection."

Annie stared, wide eyed for a moment and then a huge grin broke out on her face. She nodded wildly, bobbed a few grateful curtsies and excused herself excitedly.

Diana and I watched her go and then Diana turned a knowing eye upon me, "You are a bit soft when it comes down to it, aren't you?"

I said that I didn't know what she meant and took the opportunity to ask if we might spend some time together in London. Diana again studied me carefully before a gentle little smile shaped her lips and she slipped her arm through mine.

"Possibly, Miss Vastra-Flint. Quite possibly."


End file.
